


Break-in role

by Kitschgeist



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 08:43:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14667459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitschgeist/pseuds/Kitschgeist
Summary: “Come in, Dr Watson,” said Professor Moriarty.“‘Doctor’?” Watson sputtered. “I’m sorry, do you mistake me for someone else?”





	Break-in role

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe someday I’ll try to joke about other things, but not today.

Outside the front door of a London residence, a man waited. He was a middle-sized, strongly-built man of the variety one might see in a crowd and tap on the shoulder in the belief he was an old acquaintance. An acquaintance from a more innocent time: before the harshness of the world weathered his face, average-looking for his age then, into one average for his age now, and before one had not once engaged in a chat with a strange man about the housing market while cleaning laboratory equipment.

Footsteps sounded from indoors. They were slow, almost bored. At last, an older man answered the door.

“Good afternoon.” The visitor doffed his hat. The flat, rectangular parcel he carried under one arm knocked against the door-frame.

“Come in, Dr Watson,” said Professor Moriarty.

“‘Doctor’?” Watson sputtered. “I’m sorry, do you mistake me for someone else?”

Moriarty stared at him. He opened the door wider. “Leave it in the hallway. I’ll decide what to do with Dr Verner’s excessively artistic anatomical study later.”

“Ah, yes, of course, the anatomical study!” Watson laughed. “It’s what you ordered,” he added, in a conspiratorial tone, as he stepped into the house.

Moriarty took the parcel and placed it on the floor, against a wall. “Doctor, please. There is no need to embarrass yourself further.”

Watson gave him a sceptical look. “I don’t quite understand your humour. But, since everything has been sorted out, I’ll leave you to enjoy your latest acquisition,” he said, and motioned to leave.

“Oh, how terribly exciting it is to own a ‘genuine, long-lost Vernet’. Goodbye. Try not to accidentally tip over that vase on your way out.”

Watson spun round to face the professor. “Now, listen,” he snapped, “you may have seen through this plan. But if I know Holmes, he’ll find a way! He’ll find enough evidence against you, just you wait.”

“I’ll wait. But I believe you have no further reason to stay here. I installed iron bars in front of that window Holmes likes to use. They’re on the inside.”

“So that means he wouldn’t have been able to enter your study,” Watson said, deflated.

Moriarty angled his head in a way that reminded Watson, unsettlingly, of himself when he expressed sympathy to his patients.

“Have a look. And have a look at the new door locks too, so you can tell him not to waste his time with those, either.”

 

 

Holmes stood on the balcony, chin in hand, appraising his would-be entry point. Unable to reach the latch that would have allowed him to swing away the inconvenient structure of metal bars covering the window, he bent down to his tool-bag and pulled out a hacksaw.

Just then, Watson and Moriarty entered the room.

“Well done, Professor!” Holmes smiled. “This window is now burglar-proof.”

“Thank you,” said Moriarty. “You may leave.”

“Gladly! I’m sure you can sleep peacefully now that I’ve tested it, exactly as you asked me to. Watson, could you let me in? I’d rather take the stairs down.”

“Asked you to?”

Holmes stepped through the window, bringing his tools. “I am aware of your concerns about break-ins.” He dusted off his clothes. “As I am familiar with such incidents, you wanted my opinion on whether your security measures were adequate.”

“You are very ‘familiar’ with such incidents.” Moriarty’s tone remained calm, but a persistent swaying of his head escaped his control.

“Rarely,” Holmes began, “would a burglar want to work in broad daylight.” He clapped Watson on the back, startling him. “But since this was simply a test, the time of day was of no consequence.”

Moriarty turned to Watson. “Was that his reason for coming here?”

“Of course!” Watson affirmed with all his heart, albeit a second too late.

Moriarty crossed his arms, barely concealing his annoyance. Carefully manoeuvring his hacksaw, Holmes returned the gesture, barely concealing his satisfaction.

“Everything you have been doing is illegal,” hissed Moriarty.

“You, of all people, would know that,” Holmes retorted.

“Dr Watson,” Moriarty sighed, “now do you understand what I have been tolerating? Slander and trespass, all this while. Frankly, this is a pathological fixation on incriminating an innocent man.”

“Why do you tolerate Holmes’ behaviour, if you believe the courts would be on your side?” asked Watson.

“They may not be on his side for much longer,” Holmes declared.

“The police scrutiny I have been subject to in the past…” Moriarty coughed in an attempt to stop the growing hiss in his breath. “That scrutiny, which I had been put under thanks to Mr Holmes, found nothing. And if I took legal action against him, would it not affect his professional reputation? You know best of all that he does the public a great service when he puts his talents to justifiable use.”

Watson looked to Holmes. Holmes smiled and shook his head.

Moriarty stepped towards Holmes. “Dr Watson, your friend is not a threat to me.” He slowly pushed away Holmes’ now dangerously-angled hacksaw. “I pity him.”

Holmes did not deign to respond. Instead, he turned to Watson. “Well, Watson, I think our work here is done.” He picked up his tool-bag and gestured at the door.

After one last, contemplative glance at Moriarty, Watson exited the room, preceding Holmes.

As Holmes stood on the threshold, he noticed a tinted glass bottle on a wall-mounted shelf. He pointed to it. “By the way, Professor, it appears that against all odds, there is a significant amount of snake extract in your snake oil liniment. More than necessary, I should think, if it causes side effects to this degree.”

“Take care, Mr Holmes,” Moriarty intoned, and shut the door in Holmes’ face.


End file.
